


strength of your hands (and of your heart)

by robinsintherain



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, I guess? It was meant that way but it could be either, Low Chaos (Dishonored)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2016-12-11
Packaged: 2018-09-07 22:18:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8818312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robinsintherain/pseuds/robinsintherain
Summary: There are many things Samuel has seen, both at sea and on land, but the sight of Corvo Attano limping towards him out of the sewers is enough to make him want to hop right back into his boat and sail towards open water without a backwards glance, save to make sure the sword clutched in the former Lord Protector's hand doesn't find itself lodged firmly in his back. Or, Corvo and Emily, as Samuel sees them.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Title is taken from the Heart quote 'Their fate rests on your effort. On the strength of your hands, and of your heart' which isn't all that related but... I had to title this thing somehow...
> 
> This is unbeta'd so apologies for my abuse of commas ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

There are many things Samuel has seen, both at sea and on land, but the sight of Corvo Attano limping towards him out of the sewers is enough to make him want to hop right back into his boat and sail towards open water without a backwards glance, save to make sure the sword clutched in the former Lord Protector's hand doesn't find itself lodged firmly in his back. 

He has never seen the man before, of course, but the effects of six months imprisonment are clear, from the startling thinness, apparent even under his clothes, to the scarred skin and unhealthily pallor. Even so, Corvo looms over him, silent and watchful in a way that makes Samuel's skin crawl just a little as he steers the little boat away from the shadow of Colridge.

He is glad, certainly not for the last time, that Corvo is on his side.

\---

Over time the Loyalists attempt, in their own ways, to give Corvo space, rest, but a resistance is no small a thing to run, and the sleep he gets is never quite enough to ease the dark smudges around his eyes or the weary drag of his feet. In the short time they have known each other, Samuel has not heard the disgraced Lord Protector utter a single word. He doesn't dwell on it too long, figuring that the man will speak in his own time. It's none of his business what unspeakable demons Corvo brings with him out of Colridge - six months is no short a time to bear the untold horrors that show themselves in the way Corvo flinches at certain movements before catching himself, as if ashamed, or the way his eyes become vacant sometimes, as if he does not see them. 

Cruelly, perhaps - and certainly not to his face - Pendleton jokes they could make a sport out of cataloguing Corvo's peculiarities - the way he stares at them as if he's listening into their very souls, or the way his deft fingers reach out and stash small coins and seemingly worthless trinkets (and sometimes even documents, but Samuel won’t let on he's seen that) into his pockets for Outsider knows what purpose. Samuel wonders where he keeps it all, if he hoards it somewhere up in the attic or uses it for some other purpose, but none of them have the guts to ask.

There is an air of silence that follows Corvo wherever he goes, from the soundless tread of his boots to the way he never once opens his mouth to speak. Samuel quickly abandons wondering whether he doesn't talk or whether he simply can't- such questions will do nobody any good - and instead commits himself to memorising the minute changes in face and stance that speak more than his words ever could. It's an uphill struggle, because Corvo wears that voids-damned, horrible mask so often, but it's a start, and Samuel has the time, on quiet boat rides and dark evenings at the Hound Pits.

\---

No matter how much he tries to track Corvo’s expressions, the first time Samuel sees Corvo smile - properly, truly smile - it is with Emily. 

In hindsight, he couldn't imagine it would have been for anything else, because whether the rumors are true or not, whether by blood or by circumstance, Emily is Corvo's daughter through and through. He dotes on her, and she on him, and it is the strangest, most natural thing Samuel has ever had the fortune to see.

Corvo gives her gifts sometimes - sparkling kingsparrow feathers and little trinkets he must have picked up in the city - and Emily receives them with obvious delight bordering on reverence. If it is unbefitting of an empress to take such items, it never seems to occur to either of them as they sit absorbed in each other's company. Soon it is not just Corvo giving the gifts - Emily rewards him with drawings and small, wonky sculptures fashioned out of copper wire and anything else she can pick up or pilfer from around the place (and the family resemblance it not just physical, Samuel thinks). When together, they are oblivious to any of the other Loyalists until Callista drags Emily off to her lessons, or Havelock takes Corvo aside to order their next move. 

Samuel supposes he is the only one who notices, but there is a change that comes over Corvo whenever Emily is in his presence. His movements have always been measured, but now they become softer, more gentle, and he seems to curl up in on himself as if to try and become smaller, less threatening. When he returns from missions it is Emily that he visits first, taking care to hide his bloodstained clothing and fatigue, while Havelock paces and curses Corvo for neglecting to report straight to him. 

\---

For her part, Emily clearly dotes on Corvo. She is the only one who is not even a little afraid of him, and looks that would make grown men shake in their boots leave her giggling. Corvo may not speak, but they understand each other perfectly through looks and little gestures, and Emily never once gets frustrated with him in the way she does Callista or the others. 

All the same, Callista confides in Samuel one evening, for no other reason than she is tired and they are in close proximity, that Emily puts on a brave face in front of the Lord Protector. She cries when he isn't there, sometimes, and even shakes and claims she can see eyes or rats or even dead men in the shadows, and Samuel is reminded that the empress is only a ten year old child who has not long ago watched her mother's murder. In front of Corvo, however, she is bright and strong and loud, in the same way that Corvo smiles and spins her around until she giggles and carefully hides the strange markings on the back of his hand under his sleeve or behind his back.

Certainly, they are an odd, sad pair, but Samuel cannot bring himself to pity them.

**Author's Note:**

> This was gonna be longer but? nothing really seemed to be working... maybe I'll add the other stuff into a second chapter if I ever come back to it...  
> I'm at itsrainingrobins on tumblr if anyone wants to come yell at me about my beautiful murder daughter?


End file.
